I’ve yet to hear my dog ask about the meaning of
life as he seems pretty damn satisfied with existence. You could
conclude that we’re better off not even asking about meaning.
Kids don’t ask it, at least not with the same angst adults
do. There is mild merit to the phrase ignorance is bliss, as
ignorance comes in both pleasant and painful forms. If yours is the
former, and you don’t fear boredom, you can float with
contentment along the surface of existence never exploring what
lurks beneath. There’s a Zen proverb that says
“Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After
enlightenment, chop wood, carry water” and I consider
this saying often. No matter how much you understand or don’t
about your life, you still have to do the living.

Most of living involves simple tasks. The answer
to the question might just be there is no meaning other than living
life for its simple pleasures and responsibilities, and modern
life is filled with people who need kindness, and skills that can
be learned and put to benevolent use. To make use of
enlightenment still requires putting that enlightenment into
action. The people who ask the question most often are those
who have a life successful enough to be beyond struggling to
survive. You don’t hear this question much from people in
need of work, scavenging for food, or running for their lives every
few minutes. Most living things in the history of the planet
never bothered to need to ask this question in part because they
were too busy trying to stay alive to have a need to occupy their
minds with a supremely abstract question.

Kafka (possibly)
wrote “the meaning of life is that it ends”
which I love. Our choices matter because they are finite.
The time I spent writing this post was time I will never get back
and eventually I will die. That time is gone from me forever. Even
if no one reads this post, or I decide later I hate it, it still
has meaning to me because it’s where I chose to put part of
my life. How I prioritize my time
defines what my life means, or doesn’t. This is pragmatic
meaning. Meaning is not an ideal or platitude but something that I
manifest in actions I take, or don’t take. In other words,
the meaning of life is who you talked to, who you loved, who you
helped, who you hurt, what you built, what you destroyed, and
on it goes. Camus wrote “Don’t wait for the last
judgement, it takes places every day”.

Socrates
said “the life that is unexamined is not worth
living” which appeals to me. However I think it’d be
worth living unexamined, as my dog’s daily life, or a weekend
in Hawaii, are proof of the joys of hedonism, it’s
just that the examined life offers many superior pleasures.
Unwavering hedonism loses its meaning as we need contrasting
experiences to fully realize what we have. No meal is better than
one after a fast.

Following Socrates lead, the fundamental flaw in the
question is that it’s asked in the singular. As if there
was one meaning, written on a sacred mountain, visible only with a
special magic spell, and all we need to do find the secret map,
cast the spell, and reveal the meaning for 6 billion people as if
it were a crackerjack prize. It’s an absurd
premise. There are an infinite number of meanings to life. You
can have several of them that serve you in different ways, or that
are useful at different times. The meanings of life for a 17 year
old boy, is different than for a 27 year old woman, and on it goes.
We go through many meanings during life and people who have
fulfilling lives take ownership of the process of shedding old
meanings and cultivating new ones. Once you ask “what are
the meanings of life?” seeking multiple answers
instead of singular, doors open. It’s easy to see that
different people find different meanings, and that you have to do
the legwork of trying different ones out, or even crafting meanings
of your own based on what you learn from others and your own
experience with what has meaning for you.

The reason people keep asking the question is it’s
a cliché. It’s the most well known phrase for
attempting a philosophical discussion with someone. Most people,
even when discussing philosophy, stay in the abstract, and shy of
sharing their own personal meanings, which contributes to the
frequency of the question. We ridicule people who ramble about
meaning as navel
gazers, but the mistake is merely being shy of the personal and
the specific. It’s always fascinating to hear how people
translate meaning into the actions of their daily lives, as
generally we fail at the process, distracted by shiny objects,
status symbols, fears and entertainments. We so rarely share our
personal struggles with the inconsistencies of our beliefs and
behaviors, but it’s in those conversations the meanings we
seek can always be found.

The Meaning of
Life

Our choices matter because they are
finite. How I prioritize my time defines what my life
means. In
other words, the meaning of life is who you talked to, who you
loved, who you helped, who you hurt, what you built, what you
destroyed, and on it goes. Albert Camus wrote
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